


daybreak

by nyxile



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Fluff, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:53:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25812376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyxile/pseuds/nyxile
Summary: Each and every sunrise in the Mojave is wonderful, in its own special way.
Relationships: Arcade Gannon/Courier, Arcade Gannon/Nonbinary Courier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	daybreak

**Author's Note:**

> this is what happens when i listen to in the shadow of the valley one too many times on repeat. apparently my talents lay in never completing a wip over 2k words but instead in banging out soft drabble-y things in a few hours entirely at random. i have a lot of thoughts about arcade and his complex relationships to damn near everything and everyone in the continental usa but i think the guy should get a chance to sit and watch a goddamn sunrise no thoughts head empty once in a while too.

The early mornings of the desert are quiet more often than not, instilled with a strange sort of peacefulness that only seems to remain so long as the sky keeps to its honeyed sunrise-oranges and yellows and pinks. The world seems softer in the gentle dawn light that comes right before the sun peeks over the horizon, a calm before the storm that is the glaring heat of the midday Mojave. Arcade, whose natural inclination to rise with the sun was only reinforced by the echoes of military training and what passed for medical school in the New World, makes a habit of crawling out of bed a few minutes early each day. 

The valley they're in ends only a few hundred metres away and he climbs to the top of the slope that cradles it, settling in the crescent copse of barren trees where the view is best. He sits on the edge of a hill that begins to slope down again where his heels cross in front of him in the sand. Beyond that, the land gives way to a stunning view of the usually desolate wastes. For a few minutes each day, there's nothing but the soft colours of the sunrise sky and the slowly-warming morning air to worry about. 

Usually.

"'S _way_ too early to be alive."

Arcade glances over his shoulder. The luckiest non-bachelor in the world is wearing nothing but his favourite pajama pants and some shoes that they haven't put on all the way, because their heels seem to be hanging out the backs, though it's hard to tell exactly because Arcade's pants are far too long for them. "You wanted to see what I do all day while you sleep," he reminds them. The Courier shuffles over, dragging their feet and flopping into the ground beside Arcade, who puts an arm around their shoulders and resigns himself to being used as a fleshy pillow as their head bonks against his shoulder. 

Their breathing evens out alarmingly fast and Arcade wonders if they'll even remember they made the trek outside the next time they wake up. He lets them sleep for the moment, breathing in the sweet dawn air and trying not to stare so hard at the tiny sliver of the sun that's begun climbing over the vast horizon. There's a bit of a breeze this morning and it ruffles through his hair, enough to make him instinctively smooth it back with the hand not curled around the Courier. When he looks back at the sun, it's breaching the skyline.

"Hey," he says quietly, nudging them. "Sun's coming up." 

The Courier groans but he sees their eyes blink open, batting their eyelashes at the sudden onslaught of light. "Mm," they mumble. "Pretty."

Arcade, still watching them, smiles. "I sure think so." He turns his eyes back to the sunrise, eyeing the blue-purple clouds that break up the softer pink-orange sky that bleeds from all around the climbing sun. Another whisper of the breeze cools his face and rattles the leafless branches of the trees overhead. The Courier tilts their head back just barely to look at the noise and their hair tickles Arcade's nose, bringing with it the faint scent of sand and soap. 

After a long moment of peaceful quiet, his Courier sighs and snuggles closer. "I think—" they break off in a huge yawn that gives Arcade a whiff of some pretty awful morning breath. It's disgusting enough to make his nose wrinkle; he loves them _terribly_. "I think I get what you like about this, even if I feel like I could sleep through a deathclaw mauling right now and smile about it if it meant I could get a few more hours unconscious."

It's easier to tamp down on the instinct that makes Arcade want to correct them with a _well, you're not entirely unconscious when you sleep_ than it used to be. Instead, he makes an amused little huff into the top of their head and watches their hair ripple. "You're so dramatic."

"Learned from the best," they sigh. Arcade watches their eyes flutter closed again.

In the space of a few breaths, they're out for a second time, the lines of their face going slack and their body slumping warm and heavy against his. Carefully, he adjusts his arm around them so that they hopefully won't wake up with a crick in their neck. They stay like that for a long time, long enough for the sun to drag itself from the line of the horizon and begin its climb across the sky. The heat of it makes Arcade's cheeks warm and the light makes the Courier turn their face more fully into his shoulder, groaning. He hadn't really expected them to watch the sunrise with him. It's nice of them to try, even if they are currently doing their best to wash his shirt using only their drool.

There's work to be done today: he's got two pregnancies to check in on and the regular slew of sunburns and sprains to soothe; the Courier has some more negotiations with the Khans to smooth over. For now, in the light of the sunrise, the minutia is faraway, and the only thing that seems to matter at all is the steady rise-and-fall of his Courier's chest and the long moment of early-morning serenity he's come to know as the feeling of home, regardless of where he rests his head.

**Author's Note:**

> *wails*
> 
> _a little bit further ... i will find my rest ... in the shadow of the vaalllleeyyyyy .... that i love best_


End file.
